Loving You- Death Of Me
by SometimesIAmInfinite
Summary: Set in 18th century England. Dan works at Mallor house a servant to Dahl Mallor- a twisted but well-paying master. Phil is just starting out. How will they get through the dystopian hell that is working at the house, and will they be able control their feelings for each other in an environment where homosexuality is regarded with disgust?
1. Love Is a Cancer

**Before I start I want to say that I know Dan and Phil aren't actually in a relationship and everything because people get annoyed. OR ARE THEY!?**

**DUNDUDNDN**

When I was younger my Mother used to say: 'Phil, love is like terminal cancer,' to which I'd say; 'how so?' And she'd give me same look as when she told me my new puppy had been hit by a carriage, but not to be sad because we'd managed to afford some joints of 'beef' for tonight. We never had beef, or meat of any kind. And I was pretty sure- no certain- that the stringy, chewy mess that conjugated on my plate was not 'beef.' Anyway, after the expected: 'how so?' She would tell me, 'well Phil, love is like terminal cancer because it grows and grows and grows until you can't stand it anymore and you have to cut it out of yourself.'

Of course she was higher than a giraffe on stilts- It was opium that time I think. But you could say my approach to this 'love' thing was somewhat warped after that analogy. I suppose she had a right to feel like that. She had just found out that Father was cheating on her with a barmaid and we weren't going to make it through the approaching winter with our current funds. All being in 'love' had got her was an unwanted son, a mountain of debt and even a bullet to the head to top it off.

Mother's death didn't exactly make my Father drop to his knees and pray for the holy Lord to forgive him of his grievous sins, but he did get off his arse finally. He took up the family business of the prestigious art that is tailoring to which he didn't do a half bad job. Soon enough we moved out of the squalor and into the slightly better world of moderate income. The whoring barmaid was long gone. I really don't know why she left. Maybe it was to do with that rich looking businessman that she was flirting with. I suppose it's also a reasonable assumption that the ever growing bump that was forming on her belly had something to do with it too. But that's her problem. Not mine.

And then there it goes- poof!- forgotten.

At school things were a little boring- or maybe trivial is a better word. There would be always some girl or guy that claimed their love for me; 'blazed with the intensity of a thousand suns on a dry day.' My response would always be; ' What's my name?' And they would never know. Not one. They would then proceed to get all flustered and mutter a quiet 'sorry' before they inevitably left. I hated them all. They only liked me because they thought I was 'attractive.' If they knew I was just plain old heartless, insensitive, unfriendly, introverted Phil Lester... Well they wouldn't even give me the time of day.

Why didn't they know my name you ask? Well my school was 5 classes strong and you might think that would mean everyone knew everyone. However it was quite the opposite. Your class was your class for all of the curriculum. So each class got to know each other pretty well but we never mingled with the others. As I had anticipated, by the end of the first week, none of my classmates wanted anything to do with me. Which was fine. I wanted nothing to do with them. For lunch, everyone went home to eat with their families so no socializing there.

That just about explains all the noteworthy events in my life leading up to this moment in time. Which happens to be me, Phil Lester, walking up the elaborate stone staircase leading to the infamous Mallor house. Such scandals have been said to occur here. Scandals like every 4-5 months a servant supposedly quits but is never seen again. Or another one I've heard is that the illustrious Dahl Mallor sleeps around with the servants, male and female alike. Honestly I can't bring myself to care. His business is his business and I'm just the tailor's son that's here to deliver his lordships newest dinner jacket. Because we all know how important that is.

**Ok ok before you all yell at me I know that Phil's mum isn't a drug addict or anything I just thought 'What the heck' and added it. I say this because my friend proof read it and was like: 'NO PHIL'S MUM ISN'T A DRUG ADDCT HOW DARE YOU ARGHHHH' so yeah don't slaughter me for writing that plz. **

**Also there will hopefully be some romancy bits in the near future. I don't know what to rate this but I suppose if your a tiny baby child person you probably shouldn't read this.**

**Eh I don't like the title, I'll change it when I figure out what the fuck I'm writing.**

**THIS IS MY FIRST STORY I'M TRYING. Constructive criticism is appreciated but if you but if you rip into me with your knives of hate I may cry in a corner forever.**

**Dubaiii~**


	2. The Master and His house

I am greeted at the door by the fair-haired footman to whom I state my business. He nods and directs me to his lordships study. I don't envy the rich with their big houses and expensive tableware (I think if good-looking forks are ever of any importance to me I might raise a gun to my own head.) But it's not just that. For me personally I could be dirt poor but as long as I had food on my table and a roof over my head I could be happy. I picture this in my head and somehow it feels like something's missing. I wonder what?

With my thoughts fluttering around my head I knock on Dahl Mallor's imposing study door. 'Come in,' he says in a deep gravelly voice. Without hesitation I open the door. I have never seen Dahl Mallor in person but he is exactly how I imagined him. Light grey stubble covers his chin and he has soothing dark brown eyes. His hair is also light grey to which he had a surprising amount for his age (51). However to me he does not seem like a humble brown-eyed old man. Somewhere in those misleading eyes... I could see malice, arrogance, _greed_. All qualities I would expect form a man like him.

'Let me see it then.'

I lay out the midnight black dinner jacket on my outstretched arms.

'Nice, very nice.'

'I'm glad you like it, sir. Would you like to try it on?'

He grunts a_ yes_ and moves to stand in front of me his eyes not leaving mine. He then turns around so I can put the jacket on him- breaking the eye contact. I'm terribly uncomfortable with the whole situation. I don't like the unnecessary eye-contact, and I don't like that I am dressing a perfectly capable 51 year old man in his own clothes. But most of all I don't like that he had now turned back around. That he has placed a large, rough hand on my shoulder. And I definitely don't like that he is giving me a look that a starving dog would a raw steak.

His grip has me firm in place. I couldn't run if I tried, it's not my place to do so anyway. He'd have me flogged for my disrespect. So I stand frozen here in this empty study waiting for him to make a move. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. Finally he leans in towards my face and I brace myself for a lifetime of trauma. But he doesn't do anything. Instead he says; 'how would you like to work here at Mallor house?' And smiles a smile that is not for my sake, but for his. He's probably imagining what unspeakable things he could do to a young, innocent boy like me. And I understand why people are scared of this man.

**I'M SO SORRY PHIL**

**Argh what am I doing. I'm still undecided about smuttiness so we'll see how that goes...**

**If anyone even reads this...**

**Dubaiii~**


	3. Inklings and Emotions

We stand in silence for a few moments. He's waiting for me to make a decision, but it's a decision I can make. Not right now. So instead I say; '...What?' The words sounds so childish and unintelligent coming of my mouth. I hate it. He smiles again. 'I said, how would you like to work here? The pay is more than generous. With your Father's job as a tailor and you working here you'll have more than enough money to support yourselves.' I contemplate this. It is true that me and my Father would probably never be short of money for as long as I worked here. Meals and living quarter expenses would be taken out of my pay so no worries there. All in all it would be a great job. The fly in the ointment being the very same man that's giving me the ointment.

I leave after telling him that I should speak to my Father before making such a decision.

Retracing my steps to get back to the main door, I hear a crash. It sounds close so I follow the noise to see if anyone needs my help. I nearly laugh as I think 'why would anyone need _my_ help?' And the overwhelming pointlessness of me being there. I turn a corner and find a boy lying sprawled on an expensive looking rug. A silver platter lies on the floor a couple of feet away from him along with three goblets- luckily for him they were empty. I kneel down and roll the boy over so he is lying on his back rather than his front. My immediate thought is; 'he's _beautiful_', and that scares me. It's true that I never found women particularly attractive, but it was the same for men too. I'd always sort of thought I was asexual. Another scary thought comes to mind: I don't care about my sexuality.

This 'love' thing has almost always played a part in my life. It practically killed my Mother and my Father hasn't been in 'love' with anyone since the barmaid which inevitably ended soon after my Mother died, the kids at school all felt it, and of course there is my Mother's drunken philosophy that 'love' is a cancer. I never understood what all the fuss was about. But now- after 27 years of introversion- I feel the first inklings of an alien emotion stirring in my chest.

The boy laying in front of me groans, jolting me out of my own head. He has rich, dark brown hair and slightly tanned skin (rare in a sun-deprived country like England). Traditional butler attire clothes him and I can't help but notice how good he looks in them. His eyes are closed. So I imagine what colour they'd be and if they are just as stunning as the rest of him. I decide I should take him to the house's kitchens. Hopefully they would know how to help him.

Luckily it seems he was just going there because I can hear knifes on cutting boards and pots bubbling over from a stone staircase next to us. Even though this boy is about as tall as me from what I can tell, he's surprisingly light. I carry him bridal-style down the uneven stairs and am not surprised when I get a multitude of confused looks from various servants. A portly women in her forties is the first to come up to me. 'Sit him down on that chair son,' she says, her brows furrowing in concern when she examines his contorting face. I do as she says. 'Oh Daniel, you poor boy,' someone behind me adds. _His name is Daniel_ I think.

The portly women returns with a wet rag and places it over Daniel's forehead. She turns to me.

'You were right to bring him here. I'm thankful for your concern Mr...'

'Lester. My name is Phil Lester.'

'The tailor's son I assume?'

I nod and smile. 'You assume correctly,'

She smiles back, but upon looking at Daniel again she returns to a frown.

'This is the third time, he can't keep doing this...' _Doing what?_ I don't get to ask because Daniel's eyes flutter open and to my delight, the first this he does is look at me smile.

_His eyes_ I think _are more beautiful than I could have imagined._

**Sorry I know there isn't much Phan**__**action at the moment but the setting of the scene has taken so long and ahhh.**

**But hopefully there will be romancy bits in the next chapter. I'm getting there eventually!**

**Dubaiii~**


	4. The Life-Changer

Smiling back seems like a good option at this point but I resist. I barely even know this guy. So why is grinning at me like I was the best thing he'd seen all day? The portly women tells me her name is Veronica. She seems nice. I could imagine her being the kind of women that would tuck her children up at night before reading them bedtime stories. The kind of women my Mother never was. Daniel's smile has receded to a slight grin but his eyes have lost none of their beauty. 'So you're my savior then?' He says.

'Uh, I guess,' I can't hide my blush. His voice is so smooth, the kind of voice that makes you want to listen. He laughs gently.

'No need to be shy, you really helped me out there,' My blush deepens. 'Oh, what's your name?' The whole room- somehow filled with servants now-looks at me expectantly.

'My name is Phillip Lester, Phil to most,'

'And my name is Daniel Howell, Dan to most. Pleased to make your acquaintance Phil,' I like that he says the last sentence with sarcasm so it's not at all formal. I like that he doesn't use my full name. So far it seems I like everything about this boy. And this time I can't help but smile back.

I leave the house with a warm feeling emanating from my chest. Never in my life did I think someone (let alone a man) could make me feel like this. Veronica had asked me what I was doing there and I said I was delivering the Master's dinner jacket. The truth. However I did not include that he had offered me a job. It didn't really seem necessary at the time. After all I haven't even made my mind up yet. Although now, saying no seems like a stupid thing to do. The pay is great, the people seem great... Dan is great... Suddenly I shake my head as if doing so will get rid of the thoughts. It doesn't. Dan has permanently found residence in my head. Consequences of these 'ungodly' -as my Father puts it- thoughts flash through my head like bullets.

_A man tied to a post. Flogged until the lashes couldn't be distinguished from each other._

_A man in a darkened alleyway. A group forms and shouts things at him that I don't understand._

_A man cornered in the street. More men. Other men. Rocks are thrown. The man falls._

Their only crime? Love. But the wrong kind of love apparently. Anyway I reach my house and locate the spare key underneath the mat, where it always is. Upon opening the door I find my Father grinning at me expectantly, wanting to know how it went with Dahl Mallor. 'He offered me a job to work at the house,' I say. Dumbfounded silence follows. Then I add; 'and he liked the jacket,' and my Father smiles the biggest and widest I've seen since he made his first customer happy. Presumably because of the job offer not the jacket. 'Oh, my dear boy!' He gatherers me in his arms and squeezes too hard like he used to when I was small.

'So you want me to take the job?' It's a question I don't really need to ask.

'Yes! Of course! Do you know how much that man pays?' I nod. My Father holds me at arms length now, still grinning like a mad man. He says; 'You know son, I think this could be life changing. It feels like this- this job, could be the start of something huge for us,' I'd be lying if I said I didn't agree. Although it was not the money I was thinking of. It was a certain brown-haired boy.

**Eh I feel like I could have done better on that one.**

**Please comment ways to improve that would be sooooo helpful.**

**Dubaiii~**


	5. Musical Memorabilia

My Father leaves early in the morning to give Dahl my answer which leaves me time to pack my things. There's not much. Clothes, books and toiletries. I don't particularly have any sentimental possessions apart from this old music box. Did my Mother give it to me during her dying breath? Is it a family heirloom, generations old and filled with memories? No. I actually found it on the floor outside my school, years ago. A spontaneous spasm of thought caused me to pick it up. It's grubby and worn and spent so much time on the ground what might have been a pretty floral design on the lid is now chipped and dirt stained. But that's exactly why I wanted it. The old thing reminds me of myself. What could have been beautiful is now stained and smeared. What used to play delightful melodies is now reduced to a dull clang. What might have been loved has been tossed aside. And with that my Father returns with a carriage to escort us to the house.

It's a short journey to the house but there's still enough time to get nervous. Will I be good enough? What if all the rumours are true? And what about Dan? I can't get his beaming face out of my head. My Father would slap me if he knew what I was thinking. We pull up outside the house and are greeted by servants lined up on either side of the front door. Our welcoming committee. Veronica is there and Dan which is good because hopefully that means he's feeling better. His eyes meet mine for a moment before Dahl strides out of the front door and brings a hand down hard on my shoulder. Like he did the first time we met.

'Ah! Young man, I'm glad you made the right decision. We're all so happy to have you here,' he gestures with his arm to the rows of servants and they nod in unison. I say; 'thank you, Sir,' and shake his hand hoping it was the appropriate thing to do. It probably was because he spins on his heel and leads me inside, chuckling softly. The servants file in one by one after us. I turn quickly and catch my Father waving before the door slams shut. 'Well now, we must show Phil here the ups and downs of the house, who wants to volunteer to be his tour guide?' Dan steps forward immediately which- I won't lie- made my heart flutter. 'Me Sir, I will,' Dahl looks him over and grins. 'As you wish.'

A nervous expression passes over Dan's face. He hurries over to me and grabs my hand. My _hand_! I will myself to seem nonchalant but I suspect I'm blushing. Footsteps echo in the hall we left behind- the servants are making themselves scarce. 'I have a spare bed in my room, you can stay with me.' He says this without turning around. Is he embarrassed? 'Oh, uh, thank you.' Dammit Phil is that all you can say!

'It's no problem, really.' My hand, oh God he's still holding onto my hand. He pulls me up some narrow stairs and down a grey, stone-walled hallway- a complete change from the ornate interior the rest the house has- and into a small room. For all Dahl's wealth I expected the servants quarters wouldn't be as bad as they are. The majority of the room is taken up by two beds, both made beautifully, but as I sit down on one I find they are far from comfortable. It's like sitting on a brick and I cringe as I imagine sleeping on it. There's also a chest of drawers in the corner of the room made of wood nearly black from being in the way of sunlight for too long. That's about it.

'Not much of a home is it,' Dan says.

'No.' I say, 'but we can make it one.' And I mean it. I really do.

**Gahhhh I need to add some more Phan action but I don't want to rush this or anything.**

**Please comment so I know if I'm wasting my time or something.**

**Yup**

**Dubaiiii~**


	6. We'll Survive, I Promise

Dan helps me unpack my belongings. Our hands touch when getting things out of my case, I feel a jolt of electricity buzz through my skin every time they do. When we've finished, he tells me we should go to the kitchens so he can introduce me to everyone. I know I've done it before but I don't argue. I begin to wonder if he'll take my hand again. Sadly, he doesn't. Nervous, I follow him through the house until we get to the place where i first looked into his eyes and recall the feeling of utter amazement that enveloped me when I did. As I enter the room, the hustle and bustle of the kitchen's staff slowly ceases as people begin to notice our presence. Eventually, about 12 very tired looking people are smiling at me. _There's pity in their smiles_ I notice. I suppose they're waiting for me to speak. So I do.

'Hello everyone. My name is Phillip Lester and I've come to work here, as a... a,' I fumble over my words. Dahl didn't tell me what my job I was actually going to do. Huh. It astounds me that it hadn't crossed my mind to ask. 'You don't even know your own job?' Dan asks looking at me in bewilderment. Embarrassment shows itself in a blush. But to my surprise- he laughs. A laugh that lights up the whole room and soon everyone is giggling slightly. What an amazing talent he has. It's as if he can make someone's day that little bit brighter from just his smile. My eyes had found their way to the floor but I look at Dan now as he speaks. 'Oh, Phil,' he covers his mouth as he laughs again- unable to contain his amusement. Veronica chimes in; 'you should probably go and ask the Master if you don't know,'

'I should,' I say

'I'll go with him,' Dan interjects.

'No, you have work to be getting on with,' Veronica says.

'But-'

'No excuses, off you go.' Dan gives me a disappointed look before heading up the stairs I had carried him down the day before. I watch him go, equally disappointed.

'Master Dahl is probably in his study at this time of day,' Veronica says glancing over at a clock to confirm what she'd said. I tell her thanks and make my way to Dahl's study. He bellows out a laugh when I ask him the question. 'How stupid of me! You'll be a footman, the previous one has...left. Family issues I think it was.' He looks up as if to check if I believed him which only makes me doubt him more. 'You'll open doors for people, wait the table at meal times, and assist Gentlemen with anything they wish.' I hope there's no hidden meaning his last words. 'Thank you, Sir,' I say, and leave promptly after.

I spend the rest of the day standing at the main door where the fair-haired footman greeted me the day before. Wait. Was he the one that 'left'? Dahl didn't mention the reason for him wanting me to work here. And that footman couldn't have left so quickly. I saw him at about 4PM last night, and I arrived here at 7AM... He wouldn't have left in the afternoon- Highwaymen have become a problem- so unless he left at dawn, he should still be here? No. No, it must be a different footman. That man has to still be here, right? My mind skims back to all the rumours I've heard.

He's a rapist.

He killed his own son.

He mutilates his servants.

He's _insane._

I start to shake. What have I got myself into? The rumors are true aren't they. Oh _God_ they are aren't they? I going to end up as a face on a 'missing' poster. They're going to find my disfigured corpse in a ditch and they'll say; 'Oh no, not another one.' My breathing quickens and my head feels heavy, arms flailing as I notice a significant shift in my centre of gravity. Someone shouts my name and I recognise the voice immediately. Dan.

He's holding me in his outstretched arms and all I want to do is bury my face in his sleeve and cry. 'Phil, what's wrong? What do you need?' I love he doesn't ask me '_if I'm ok_'. Because I'm obviously not. 'I- I just...' I struggle to find the right words. He finds them for me. 'It's the rumours isn't it? I know because I felt like this too, like I'd just made the worst decision of my life and every worst case scenario came to mind. All I wanted to do was cry,' Nodding seems to be the only thing I can do at this point. To my delight he gives me another brilliant smile which I weakly try to return. 'It's ok though, because we'll make a promise.' Dan holds up his pinkie finger. I do the same, confused at the childish action. 'You'll be there for me, and in return, I'll be there for you. That way we'll both be able to survive here. Deal?' Our fingers coil around each other and I meet his gorgeous eyes. 'Deal,'

I try not to think too much about why he said _survive_. Though doing so proves rather difficult.

**Jesus that took so long to write.**

**If your wondering why Dahl says **_**assist gentlemen**_**, it's because I looked up the job of a footman and it literally says **_**assists gentlemen**_**. So yeah.**

**Please comment so I don't feel like I'm talking to myself.**

**Dubaiii~**


	7. The Horses and The Hills

For the first couple of days, Dan helps me get used to the new environment, the schedule, the long hours. Though it's hard to concentrate and not get caught staring at the same time. After first week, I feel silly for being so nervous about this job. Nothing's happened. It's totally normal here. No screams in the night, no disappearing servants. Not even a creepy, dark cellar to be spoken of._ Everything will be fine_ I tell myself.

On the eighth day, me and Dan have a couple of hours to kill before we have to get back to work. Dahl had told us to leave him alone while he... He didn't specify why now that I think about it. 'Do you know how to ride?' Dan says, eyes brimming with excitement.

'Course,' I say. He grins mischievously.

'Great. Quick, let's go get changed. I have something to show you,' I want to ask what he could have to show me so late in the day, but he's already pulling me to our room by my wrist. We usually get changed facing away form each other but Dan is rushing and yanks off his jacket, swiftly followed by his shirt. Dan's not muscly as such, he has a rather slender physic without a hair in sight. I can't help but find it adorable. Blushing profoundly, I turn around and take off my clothes with less haste. I am about to ask for my clothes out of the chest of draws when breeches, and a baggy white shirt hit my exposed back making me jump. 'Hey!' Sweet sounding laughter fills my ears. 'Sorry, sorry,' he says. I stick my tongue out at him playfully and return to dressing. But not before my eyes rake over his delicate body, covered only by -startlingly transparent- braies. Every curve, every contour, every mark that makes Dan, Dan, they're all so perfect in my eyes.

Dan wears the same garments as me. White shirt and breeches- us men don't have much choice in that area. We make our way to the stables with hurried strides. I don't want to wast any time that I could otherwise be spending with him. He directs me to a beautiful white stallion with grey patches dotted around its coat. The name _Nimbus_ is carved into the side of his stable. 'It means rain cloud in Latin,' Dan tells me. The horses' colouring certainly does remind me of a cloud. The horse Dan is riding is a browney-beige and has an equally fitting name. Fawn.

We tack up our horses quickly but I finish before Dan. I use the extra time to get to know mine a little better. 'Hey there,' I say softly as I rub the creature's forehead. Nimbus leans his stong head towards me, craving more attention. 'Good boy,' I say as I run my hand back and forth along his sleek neck, head now nuzzling my shoulder. 'Wow,' Dan says. 'He usually doesn't trust people so quickly. It took me a while before he even let me touch him,' By this point Dan has clambered onto Fawn. 'You must have a knack for it.' To my surprise, he looks impressed, awestruck even. It makes me feel just a little but proud of myself and it strikes me like a blow to the head that no-ones ever been impressed with anything I'd done. Trust Dan to be the first.

With Dan's excitement ever growing, I mount my horse and we trot our way out of the paddock. We cross a small bridge over sparkling water, glinting in the evening light. Then Dan decides that we need to hurry. I kick Nimbus' sides twice and get ready to canter, Dan does the same. Soon enough we're speeding up a grassy hill with the wind howling through my hair, and Nimbus throwing his head about whinnying in joy. I look over at Dan who's stood up in his stirrups to allow Fawn more freedom to move. A lump forms in my throat and erupts from my mouth as a jubilant laugh, causing Dan to look over at me and join in. I couldn't be any happier than I am now and I don't think I ever will be again.

'OK, we're here,' Dan says, the excitement that was once in his voice has been replaced by wonderment. He slides off his horse gracefully and lands with a soft thud on the grass. Reins in hand, Dan leads his horse to a fence and ties her there. Distractedly, he gestures for me to do the same. 'Dan, where are you-' He cuts me off with a look and a smile. What could it be that has him so preoccupied? A gentle hand pulls me up the rest of the hill. It's there that I see it, and I change my mind_. Now_ I don't think I could be any happier.

**Was that any good? WAS IT? IDK I'M SO MESSED UP.**

**I feel like I'm slipping. Like I'm being washed away like... SEE I CAN'T EVEN WRITE A FUCKING SIMILIY.**

***Cries***

**Side note: Braies are what men wore as pants I think so yeah basically Phil saw Dan in his pants...**

**~Dubaiii**


	8. At Home With Ourselves

Glowing, orange light blinds me momentarily and I have to close my eyes as we reach the top of the hill. When I'm able to open them, I see two beautiful things: Dan, and the most glorious sunset I've ever seen. Far above us, the clouds are a combination of gold, blue and purple, beyond that is the sky- no longer a blue sea but a luminescent, burning desert of gold. The sun in the middle of it all, like a halo amid the colour, the power source of this natural beauty. I'm numbly aware of my hand finding its way to Dan's. Then slightly more aware of him grabbing it and pulling me down to lie on the grass with him. I squeeze his hand and smile up at the sky, I want this moment to last forever.

We lie there in silence for who knows how long until the sun makes its lazy way below the horizon, like a stubborn child refusing to go to bed. I don't want it to go either but such is the way of nature I suppose. Dan breathes out and closes his eyes. He looks so angelic lying there, hair falling over one eye, chest slowing rising and falling. I feel so comfortable with him, which makes me remember how I said that we could make this place _our home_. And I realize that we don't need a big house or a comfortable bed to feel like this, we just need each other.

No, Phil. Don't assume that he feels like that. He'll act nice then he'll leave you when he gets bored. He doesn't feel the same way. He doesn't feel the same way. _He doesn't feel the same way so don't expect him to._ I can feel my breathing growing erratic but before I really start panicking, Dan turns his head slowly, like he's not sure if he's supposed to and I can see emotion overflowing from his eyes. 'Phil... I'm so happy right now,' tears cloud his eyes making them shine even brighter. 'I haven't been this happy in so long. I can't remember the last time someone made me feel so... so...' His voice is breaking and I feel my heart break with it. I shuffle forward, probably staining my shirt horribly but I don't care. My arms wrap around Dan and I move my mouth close to his ear to finish his sentence.

'_At home_,' I say

'At home,' he says.

**Okay, okay I know it's short but that shit is hard to write!**

**So long and goodnight~**


	9. Emotional and Physical

**Trigger warning: This chapter includes stuff about mutilation, scars and hints about rape so be advised.**

We lie together in sweet equilibrium for a few minutes. I can feel my shirt becoming wet with his tears as his face is presses into my chest. I'm not worried though, he's crying because he's happy and he's happy because of me. _Because of me_. Dan presses his palms against my chest and pushes away slightly to look at me. Emotions flash by in his eyes so fast that I can't tell what they are. I begin to have an idea however, when he looks slowly down my face, when his eyes rest on my lips, and when he tears them away to look back up at me. This time one emotion is obvious. With that same look on his face, he opens his mouth to say something and I lean in a little more- kind of pointless considering our close proximity.

He only manages to make a faint 'ah' sound before V (for Veronica- I've learned to call her that now) calls us. It turns out that there is a small path that leads from the house to the base of the hill which V had taken. It looks to be about a five minuet walk but I don't regret going the long way from the stables. 'Boys! Suppers ready, if you don't hurry you won't get any!' Dan and me look at each other as if we'd just noticed what we were doing. I'm so close to him and I find myself not wanting to move, even for food. 'We better go,' Dan says looking a bit reluctant himself. I haul myself off the ground first and hold out a hand for Dan. He takes it and smiles at me. 'Thanks.' I wave at V to let her know we heard.

Our horses neigh at us when we untie them from the fence, happy to be acknowledged. Not wanting to let our food to go to waste, we spur Fawn and Nimbus into action and speed towards the house. The thought of V's cooking makes us go all the faster. We arrive outside the kitchen in record time giggling and nudging each other playfully. Before I enter, I catch snippets of a conversation. 'Poor boy,' says a women's voice. '... Seems so nice...' Says someone else.

'Such a shame...'

'... Doesn't know what he's letting himself into...'

'... Pitiful...'

'...Such a _shame_...'

I've heard enough. Dan's saying something but I don't hear him over the sound of me bursting through the doors. A red heat is making its way up to my face and filling my brain with a burning, nervous anger. What was so bad that they had to keep quiet about? To talk about it behind my back? Everyone is silent as they snap their heads around to look in my direction. A few servants look down at their dishes, unable to meet my furious eyes. Some hold my gaze. I move from face to face and all I see is guilt and pity.

'Phil...' It's Dan. He takes my arm gently and pulls me to the head of the table. A dozen heads follow my movement. He tugs me onto a chair and perches on the arm of it to my left. 'I hate that you have to find out this way- although I suppose there are worse alternatives- but there are a few things that I think it's time you found out about.' The rumours... Is it about them?

'Listen. Dahl... He's a bad man, a really bad man. The things he does they...' Dan's tearing up as are a few others in the room. _This is really not good_. 'I...He...' He looks at a loss and scans the room. 'Anna, are you alright to show him?' A girl across the room nods. She's pretty. Curvy figure, blonde hair tied up in a neat bun, enticing brown eyes. And a huge, deep, gaping scar on her stomach. I resist the urge to gag as she unties her apron and unbuttons the part of the dress covering her torso to show me.

The scar speaks for itself. I stutter out: 'he-Dahl- he did this?' Anna nods while she covers her scar again. I get really scared suddenly. 'Has he done this to all of you?' Sure enough, everyone surrounding the table shows me a piece of mutilated flesh. Arms, legs, the back of someone's neck, a missing finger and even a missing ear on a few. But nothing that I would have noticed if they hadn't shown me. The absent fingers were disguised by blocks of wood in gloves, the ears covered by hair. The positions of the scars, the sheer amount of them, it can't be experiments... Then it clicks together like a jigsaw in my head, 'he does this for fun?' This time almost everyone stares downwards. I'm about to turn and look at Dan but I freeze, too scared to find out what this monster has done to him._ 'If _he's done something to him,' I hope desperately.

My hands begin to shake. 'Dan,' I say without looking at him, 'what's your scar?' He chuckles bitterly. 'My scar cannot be seen. It's invisible, but at the same time I can see it constantly. Other's here have the same scar so I'm not alone, I want you to know that. So, can you guess what it is?'

I still can't look at him because, yes Dan, I can guess.

**DUNDUNDUNNNNNN**

**Sorry if that was disgusting but idgaf**

**Expect some nasty stuff in the future, like really bad if you didn't get that from the last lines.**

**So long and goodnight (if you get that then you're my favourite person ever)~**


	10. Don't Ask Me That

**Trigger warning: Includes talk about rape. **

My head can't process what I've just heard. But moreover, it can't process what I've let myself into. I work for a man who rapes, mutilates and possibly kills his servants. Great going Phil, your first job outside the family business and your employer is a lunatic. Everyone is silent, waiting for me to say something, anything. But all I have is more questions that I'm afraid to know the answer to. 'You have questions,' says Dan, reading my mind. I nod.

'The rumor that he killed his son?'

'True,' says someone.

'Has he killed others?' I regret being so insensitive as half the room flinches.

Dan replies to this question. 'No... He doesn't kill, not directly. You see, there comes a point when a person simply can't take anymore physical pain and... And they just drop dead from shock. I think it's because he takes more pleasure in watching people suffer than ending their pain quickly.' His voice is so shaky and I can hear him grimace as he speaks.

'So why was I employed? The first time I came here, there was a footman at the main door. Did he... Is he...?' A couple of stifled sobs later, someone says; 'Thomas was such a nice young man.' My mouth hangs open. I'm the replacement for a dead man. I want to run, I want to scream and cry, I want to hold Dan in my arms and make sure that he's never hurt again. Instead I hold my head in my hands and slouch into the chair. A few awkward moments pass until Dan announces, 'I'm going to take Phil upstairs. He needs to rest.' I allow Dan to guide me to our room, a comforting arm draped around my shoulder.

As soon as we shut the door, I spin around and engulf Dan in a much needed hug. He gasps at first but soon his arms are tight around me too. One of his hands is stroking my hair pleasantly. 'Why don't you try and escape Dan? I don't understand! Why do you stay here and let him do this to you? Do you even want to leave?' Dan's hand freezes. His voice is nearly a whisper. 'Of course I want to leave. Do you really think that I don't spend every waking moment wishing I was free?' His voice is getting louder. 'Do you think I like this? Do you think I like being... Being raped?!' He's practically shouting at me now. 'Do you think I'd actually stay here if I had the choice?! Because I don't have one Phil! I have to stay here because I have no where else to go! No family, friends or even money! I bet my life that you'll never see the money you make, it'll go straight to your Father. And will he believe you if you tell him everything that goes on here? No! He'll abandon you here as soon as he gets the first check.' He no longer has his arms around me. 'SO DON'T ASK ME IF I EVEN WANT TO LEAVE.' Then he breaks down and falls to his knees, sobbing.

'I'm sorry... I'm sorry,' he mutterers, his words muffled from crying. 'It's not your fault Dan,' I say. I drop down to my knees too and cup my hands around Dan's face. 'It's not your fault. I just can't believe any of this...' I touch my forehead against Dan's and close my eyes. He has stopped crying and is now silent apart from the occasional shaky breath. 'Do you remember the promise you made me? You told me that together, we could survive here. I still believe that.' I push away. 'Do you?'

'I do,' he says. I smile weakly and hug him again.

'We should probably go to bed, it's pretty late,' I say, although I know sleep won't come easy tonight.

'Yeah, but Phil?'

'Yeah?'

'Can I sleep with you?'

'Sure,' suddenly sleep feel like less of an impossible task.

**BEEP BEEP MOTHER FUCKERS**

**Why do I never have anything to say in this bit?**

**So long and goodnight bitchesssss~**


	11. Body and Soul, Mind and Spirit

Numbness is all I can feel when I open my eyes for the first time today. Wait- how can you_ feel_ numb if being numb is what you feel when you feel nothing? Confusing... Disregarding the logistics of it, I most definitely feel numb. Wholly and fully numb. I think my brain has temporarily gone into an emotional coma to prevent anymore hurt, and I don't blame it. What I discovered the day before was enough for anyone to break down. The sheets rustle next to me as Dan turns in his sleep and I see a tuft of brown hair poking out from under them. My chest begins to tingle. I start to feel again.

He turns again so that he is now facing me. I take the opportunity to take in every feature of his face. His lips that are squished up adorably from having his head on a pillow, plump and pink. His long, dark eyelashes that brush the tops of his cheeks. The shape of his nose, his eyebrows, cheekbones, the sweep of his hair over one eye, I trace an outline of him in my mind so I can remember him always. Mesmerized by his features, it takes me a while before I realize there's someone knocking on the door. Marie probably, she normally wakes us. 'We're up, we're up!' I say to stop the noise. There's a shuffle of feet from outside the door, like she's nervous or something. Then a sharp intake of breath and she moves away. Maybe she wanted to say something about yesterday but changed her mind, or felt too awkward to do it. Good thing too, I don't think I'm ready to handle that yet.

All the noise disturbs Dan's slumber so I have the pleasure of seeing the drowsy confusion that comes with waking up on his face. So cute. 'Morning,' he says groggily. 'Morning,' I reply and we smile at each other despite everything. We stay like this until we realize that it's not normal to look at someone for this long without it being uncomfortable. 'We should, uh...' He says still looking at me. 'Yeah,' I say.

'Get up,' he finishes.

'And dress,' I add.

'And bring breakfast to Dahl.'

'And clean the house,'

'And prepare the...'

'We should...'

'But...' He flushes red and I see my chance.

'But I want to do this first.' I take Dan's beautiful face in my hands and pull him towards me. Our lips make soft contact and I'm transported into euphoria. It's not a friendly kiss or a passionate kiss or a lust filled one. The kiss we share is full of the love that we feel for each other, and only for each other. It's a promise- yet another promise, that we are for one another and belong with one another. Nothing can change that. Not Dahl, not this house, not even the judging eyes of those around us. In this moment we are together, body and soul, mind and spirit.

I love Dan.

He loves me

And it's going to take a whole lot more that Dahl Mallor to stop us from feeling this.

**I felt like it was about time they kissed.**

**SO KAWAII**

**Please comment and vote and stuff it would be super nice if you did**

**So long and goodnight everyoneee (even though it's like one in the afternoon)~**


	12. Roses

We pull away slowly, meaningfully. Though the kiss was great- more than great- not even that can dull down my anger. Dahl. How dare he hurt Dan. How _dare_ he? Dan has never been anything but kind and compassionate for the short time I've known him and I can't imagine he's ever been anything less than that. What gives him the right to treat him this way, to treat any of them this way? Bastard. He won't get away with it, not while I'm around, and it sounds so cliché- and in some ways I suppose it is- but there's not a doubt in mind. My father may abandon me, I might experience the same horrors Dan has, I could lose a fucking leg, but nothing, _nothing_, is going to keep me from getting him out of here. The others too. All of them, they deserve their own slice of freedom. Lord knows they've earned it.

We rise. We dress. We work, and we rest. Ever since this morning Dan has kept a watchful eye on me, love mixed with concern brewing in his irises. He can tell I've changed, my demeanour screams it. I'm angry. So angry. I feel like I'm about to burst, emotions wanting to take physical form as my fists but I resist. For Dan's sake. If I'm locked up how can I save anyone? I suppress a laugh- since when did I become the hero? Since when did I crawl out of my shell and emerge the saviour? No, I'm no hero. I'm just Phil, I'm just a guy, but I'm also no fool. I know that anyone can be the knight in shining armour and get their happy ending, you just have to believe and do the best that you can with the hand you've been dealt. There I go again, being so clichéd. But I won't deny that I believe it. I have to help these people, the question is how.

Could I tell the police? No, Dahl would just buy their silence. Maybe there's an officer who wouldn't be so easily bought? I can't imagine there would be, people are money-hungry scum bags these days. What about my father, could I get him to help me? The same issue still stands. After all, he did lose all of our money on stupid gambling bets when my mother was alive. He was so hypnotized by the thought of immense wealth that he couldn't see that he was playing right into the other gamblers' hands. The stakes got higher and our money lower. 'Just one more game, just one more,' he would say. So he would play again and lose again, until there was nothing left for him to gamble with. If you asked me if I hated my father I would say yes. If you asked me if I blamed him for my mother's death, it would be the same answer. He may seem a changed man now, a good man even, but I know he's still the same greedy fool he was when she was alive. He won't help me. Who have I got left that can?

I still haven't come up with an answer as the day comes to an end. Not even after hours of lying awake in bed and staring at the ceiling, when Dan has long since fallen asleep. I couldn't tell you why, but I suddenly want to see my music box. Maybe I just need a sense of home. I find the box in the chest of draws to my next to me, I must have thrown it in there by accident when I was unpacking. I shuffle into an upright position on the bed. My fingers ghost over the lid and I feel flakes of paint coming away under my touch. It's never been able to play music, unless you count a few out of tune clangs. I've always been curious about what it sounded like before it broke, but it's way beyond salvageable at this point. I open the lid quietly, I don't want to wake Dan, and see two familiar flowers spring up. A red and a white rose with intertwined stems. I recall my mother telling me what they meant- unity. I want them to represent me and Dan. And before I know it, I'm crying.

Violent, head-spinning sobs that I can't contain. I drop the damn music box in my lap so I can cover my face with my hands. We'll never be together, I've been such a idiot. That music box is mocking me. 'We can be together always,' the flowers say to one another, 'he can't, he will suffer and he will die like the others.' They laugh in high pitched screeches, 'disgusting, defective human beings!' They chant at me. I clamp my hands over my ears but it does nothing to drown them out. 'Disgusting defective! Disgusting, defective!' I feel like I'm about to scream. Dan reaches me before I do. His voice is quiet at first, a flute in an orchestra, but slowly he pushes through the noise. 'Phil. Phil it's OK. I'm here, I'm with you.'

'I know' I say, 'I _know_, that's why I'm scared. The roses...' My voice cracks. 'We can never be roses.' He looks around and finds the music box in my lap. He picks it up, moves it too the floor and climbs onto the bed in front of me. He studies me for a moment, like he's trying to solve puzzle, and then kneels up to wrap his arms around me. I graciously return the hug but I can't help but think that this is exactly what we shouldn't be doing. 'I understand' he says and I have no doubt that he does. 'You think we can never truly be together. Not in the way that other couples are, but I say screw them. We'll run away. We'll find a place to live where no one can touch us, a beautiful little cottage out in the countryside,'

'It'll have a lake next to it too, and a garden were we can grow plants,' my tears disappear into his shirt.

'Gorgeous flowers, vegetables, fruit, anything,'

'But no roses,' I add

'But no roses,' he agrees.

**I actually like what I've written for once that's a change. **

**If you're worried about graphic content or anything rest assured that I'm not going to write any rape scenes, I don't think I could anyway I'd probably start crying. You don't know how difficult it was to even say that it happens to Dan *cries because I am horrible person* **

**That's all for now cuz mine time is ruunnninggg outttt (high five is you know what i'm on about)**


	13. The Dance That We Create

**Warning: Contains metaphorical sex *laughs at own joke***

It's funny how one moment your whole life can feel like it's crashing down on top of you, and the next you wouldn't change it for the world- despite everything bad in it. All I need is Dan, all I want is Dan; I kiss him so he understands.

This kiss is not like the first, it's messy but passionate like declaration of love. We move together like we're dancing to a sensual love ballad. Dan shows me the steps expertly. He doesn't have to try too hard for me to lie on my back so he can lead the way for me. But our lips get tired quickly so we use our hands instead. His fingers create a slow rhythm that we fall into step with automatically. Then with Dan's guidance, I start my own dance, I create my own steps for him to follow. He does so beautifully.

Dan never misses a beat. As we reach the pinnacle of our dance, a sweet voice accompanies the music we've created. It sings to me words of comfort and love that perfectly follow the rhythm. I realize it's Dan's voice singing to me. I join in. We dance until our bodies are glistening with sweat and our muscles are burning. 'I love you,' I say without a second thought, even though it's obvious. A bead of sweat runs down his cheek like a tear, 'you have know idea how happy that makes me, Phil,' I look at him expectantly. 'Oh, and you know, love you too and all that,' he grins and brings his face close to mine. His eyelids drop and his grin recedes, 'I really do.' And then we dance some more.


	14. The Stranger

**Ok I fucked up and didn't upload the 8th chapter I think? It's called 'At Home With Ourselves' So if you could go back and read it that would be great :)**

I really just did that didn't I. Huh. There's such a strange feeling afterwards, satisfied and just content with everything. Or at least that's how it is with Dan. My Dan.

We want to lie in bed for a while longer but duty calls. I serve breakfast then man the main door for hours. Then serve lunch and watch the door, then serve dinner and watch the door. What an exciting life I lead. But in the most crushing moments of boredom, I only have to find Dan for the burden to be lifted. A frantic knock on the door slams me into reality and out of fantasies about him. I open the door gingerly; 'hello?' I've never actually had to answer the door before. What on earth do I do? OK, let's be formal about this, you're a professional door opener Phil. 'Welcome to Mallor house, do you need to see-'

'Phil!' The stranger exclaims, jumping at me an enveloping me in- his? Yes, his embrace.

'Sir, what are you-

'Sir? No need for formalities, Phil,' he smiles at me like I'd just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

'Now, if you don't mind, I' in a bit of a hurry,' he lets go of me finally,' so if you could just let me through…' He tries to get past me but I block him.

'No, no, no wait. Who are you? I can't just let a strange in, you could be a psycho-murderer for all I know,'

'I'm hardly a stranger, Phil,'

'I may be no stranger to you, but you certainly are to me. So I'll ask again; Who. Are. You?

'Later he says dismissively. He spins around and closes the door as quietly as he can. Right now, we need to go.' A very small, rarely used rational part of me says that if Dahl finds out that a random stranger forced his way into his home claiming to know me, he won't be pleased.

'Uh, OK. We should get you out of the open. No one can see you, got it?' He smiles knowing he's got his way. 'Yessir.'

Navigating the house seems to have gotten harder with the fear of being spotted tagging along. After a few close calls and a lot of hiding behind doors, we reach my room. I slump against the door after closing it. My body deflates as I breathe a sigh of relief. I ask again; 'who are you?'

'You wouldn't believe me if I told you,'

'Try me,'

'I don't think I want to,'

'I'm not giving you a choice,'

'Ooh, authoritative Phil, I like it,' he switches from sarcastic to serious in a heartbeat,' but I'm still not telling you, at least not yet,

'Ok fine, we'll start somewhere else. Who are you running from?'

'Ah, that's a question I can answer. You see, I did some business with some people who have some very serious anger issues and now they want my head on a stick,'

'Meaning...?'

'Meaning I held my end of the bargain, they didn't, I backed out and now they're blaming me for the whole deal going to shit.' I try and tell if he's lying but his face is a mask. He's been in this kind of situation before, I can tell that much. Now I have the chance to actually look, I see him. He's wearing a black suit. It looks expensive, apart from the rips, the tears and the stains. Blood stains.

'You're bleeding!'

'Oh that? Not mine,' ' This scares me but I try and act jokey about it. I attempt a look that hopefully says _oh really?_ And say: 'you don't look like you could manage something like that,'

'You'd be surprised,'

'I don't think I want to be, I've had enough for one day.' Why am I trusting this guy? Why, why, _why_? 'Look, my roommate is going to be here soon and if you're going to... Do whatever you're going to do here, then he has to know too,'

'Sure. 'As if summoned, Dan knocks on the door. I brace myself.

'Hey, Phil. Are you going to- oh OK who's this?'

'I don't know,'

'You don't _know_?

'He doesn't know,' the stranger confirms helpfully. Dan's face is the picture of confusion.

'He's, uh,'

'I'm staying here until everything dies down,'

'Oh great, thanks. Everything makes so much sense now.' The stranger sighs like it's such an inconvenience to him to answer questions it was obvious he was going to get. He tells Dan what he told me. Even after explaining, I still can't make sense of it.

'But why did you come here? And how do you know who I am?'

He tuts at me. 'No Phil, wrong question. That would be the same as telling you who I was,'

'Well now there's nothing left to ask apart from that,' Dan says

'What are you talking about?! There are so many questions! What's my favourite colour? Do I prefer cake or biscuits, tea or coffee? Blondes or brunettes? How do I-'

'ENOUGH!' I shout. The nerve of this guy... 'I'm tired of your games; tell me who you are or you're leaving even if I have to drag you out,'

He sighs, but sadly not angrily. 'I... Look, I was in trouble and I had nowhere else to go. No friends, no money, you were my last choice, you were the last person I could go to for help,'

'I get that but it doesn't explain how you know me or how you know where I work,'

'Honestly that surprised me. I thought for sure you would know who I was because I knew you, it just sort of fit.'

'Why would that surprise you?' I'm at my limit. If this guy dodges the question one more time... 'Because I'm your brother of course,'

Oh, my brother. That makes sense. No, wait- what?

_My brother?_

**CLIFF HANGER BITCH**

**That was fun rewriting that 3 times because it kept deleting itself :)**

**So Phil has a brother. What is his background? Why didn't Phil know about him?**

**WHO KNOWS BECAUSE i just.. sorta... made it up idk**

**Please, please, please comment, even if it's just constructive criticism I'd still appreciate it!**

**So long and goodnight my slippery salmons~**


	15. We Should Have Seen It Coming

He looks surprisingly calm while me and Dan are catching flies with our open mouths. Thirty seconds, a minute, my confusion is infinite. 'The name's Nathaniel, or Nate if you'd prefer,' he says. We stare open-mouthed still. Nate- it feels weird saying his name- looks like me now that I think about it. He has my pale skin, my blue eyes, the same shaped nose and jawbone, he could be my younger looking, more confident, reckless twin. My polar opposite in terms of personality. The same in one way but completely different in another. Dan regains his composure faster than me. 'So... Your his brother...?'

'Yes,'

'And you didn't know about him?' He says this to me.

'No,'

'...'

'...'

'...'

'OK this is just getting irritating now. You have questions; I have answers, so shoot.' Me and Dan exchange brief glances. I sit down on one of the beds, afraid of nerves failing me. Dan starts.

'How come Phil never knew about you?

Nate breathes out exasperatedly. 'Well, my mother was pregnant with me when your father kicked her out,' he says this with venom lacing his words. I don't like my father but one thing I'll give him credit for is kicking that whore out. Though she already had one foot out the door with a wealthy businessman on the side of it. I think about telling him this but I decide against it. 'She fell in love with another man and got married to him. Then she had me. I suppose our lives were already completely separate before I was even born, it was stupid of me to think you would know who I was, I'm sorry. Maybe I just thought your father would have stayed in contact with her or at least she would have told him about me,' I feel a stab of pity. I knew my father, he never even knew Nate existed. That must be heart-breaking for my brother to have to deal with.

Dan and I are silent for a moment, awkwardly trying to show Nate that we care about him. 'So uh, how old are you,'

'Nineteen,' he says proudly, 'so you must be twenty-seven,'

'Correct,' I say smiling.

'Wow, your so old,'

'Hey! I'm not old!'

'He's just teasing you, Phil,' Dan laughs. A dimple appears on his cheek as his lips curl up. I smile fondly a him. This is the start, I just don't realize it yet. 'So how long do you think you'll be staying here?' Dan sits next to me on the bed and Nate sits on the one opposite us.

'A week should suffice, probably less than that but you can't be too careful with these kind of people, you know?' I don't know actually. Should I? Anyway, the Dahl problem still stands. He _cannot_ find Nate, I dread to think of what he'd do if he did. Too late- oh God.

'If your going to stay, we have to get one thing clear,' Dan says. He has Nate's full attention. 'You must _not_ leave this room,'

'But-'

'No excuses, you don't even want to know what our Master would do to you if he found a stowaway in his little house of horrors,'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Doesn't matter. Swear to us that you won't leave here, we're doing this for your own good,'

'I swear,' I can't decide if I trust him or not. He's one of those people that you can't tell if they're loyal , or just waiting to stab you in the back. He probably got that trait from his father- both of them. We explain the house rules to him, our schedules and other things he would need to know so as not to get caught out if someone enters the room. The solutions for most it being just to hide under the bed. After that, Nate asks me a lot about our father. What he's like, how he's doing, things like that. I can understand why. If I had the chance to know more about my mother I would jump at the chance. She wasn't the greatest one, but a parent dying when your barely eight is hard to get over and left a gaping hole in my childhood.

It's late when we finally decide to get some sleep. I want to talk more so I can get to know Nate a little better, but there's only so much you learn about a person in one night. So far, I've know that he's clever, really clever in fact. You can almost see the intelligence sparking like lightning in his bright eyes. I've also learned he's been in four fights, seven robberies, and one shooting that make me question whether he is as clever as I think he is. Or maybe that just proves it, because he's never been caught. The last thing I find out about him is that he has a girlfriend, and from what I can tell; he's completely infatuated with her. When I asked if he was single or not he leaped a the opportunity to talk about her. Her name is Alana and they're the same age. She has: 'billowing red hair that sparkles in the sun' and 'shimmering green eyes that could be mistaken for jade coloured gems,' according to Nate. I just hope she loves him just as much as he loves her.

I sleep on a make-shift bed made out of clothes on the floor. I gave my bed to Nate out of brotherly love (surprisingly the floor is comfier than the beds), and fall fast asleep. My dreams consist mainly of fantasies with Dan. Dan and me in our little cottage in the country, me and Dan watching the sun set over a lake, and sometimes; just Dan, smiling at me from across the room. I don't know why, but this gives me so much hope for our little dream. And hope is something I haven't felt in a long time.

I wake up to Nate leaning over me. 'You make weird faces in your sleep, did you know?' I shove him off me, too drowsy to deal with his teasing.

'Be nice to me. I gave up my bed for you,' he shrugs his shoulders as if to say _fair enough_, and stands up. We lecture Nate about the do's and don'ts again while we get dressed. Dan and me have thrown privacy to the wind after that night and change right in front of each other. Nate notices this. Nate starts to look worried. We however do not.

We should have seen it coming sooner.

After all, it's inevitable in this world for people like _us._

**I know it's been ages but I'm a Dan level procrastinator.**

**I think I'm gonna to start writing longer chapters just cuz.**

**Blabla beleeblabloop remember?**

**Stay orient my oshowats**

**And everybody hide your bodies from the scarecrow.**


	16. The Calm Before A Storm

I'm surprised Dahl hasn't done anything. To me I mean. Obviously the only reason he gave me this job was because he needed a new plaything, so why has he left me alone so far? Come to think of it he's left Dan alone as well as me. I can't tell if he's just waiting for the right time, or he's occupied with something else. Or maybe he wants to give me a false sense of security before he does anything. That seems plausible. I can see him as someone who takes pleasure in leading a person on like that. Who would cherish the look of despair in someones' face as they realized the gruesome truth. Laughed as they screamed for him be leave them be. That's the kind of man he is.

Today goes relatively normally. I resist the urge to spit in Dahl's food before I serve it to him and I stand by the door for hours to welcome the comers and goers, the usual. The only real difference is trying to sneak food out of the kitchens for Nate. I don't actually think that any of the servants would say anything if they saw me taking food, but it's hard to trust people when you live in a place like this.

Breakfast was easy enough. I just had to sneak a couple of bread rolls and a few slices of cheese under my jacket. Lunch was harder- soup. I ended up having to volunteer to wash up so I could swipe the leftovers. Now I'm serving Dahl his supper and I realize that I could simply take whatever Dahl left and give it to Nate. Not all of it though, the servants would definitely start asking questions if they didn't get their share of his leftovers like they normally do. That's the perk of living with rich aristocrats, you get whatever they leave behind.

I give Dan a plate containing the remnants of a roast dinner- a leg of chicken, a few potatoes, gravy, boiled vegetables- and bring the rest back to the kitchens so the rest of us can feast. They cheer when I appear with a huge platter filled with an assortment of food. A few other servants arrive in my wake carrying wine and cheeses, that gets and even bigger cheer. I will Dan to hurry up and give Nate his meal so he can come and join the little party we're having down here. Come to think of it, what's with this festive atmosphere? We've never had something as rare as wine before, at least not that I know of. What are we celebrating? 'Hey, V,' I say nudging Veronica who is handing out glasses, 'what's going on? Is it someone's birthday?' She chuckles darkly, as if she knows she shouldn't but the urge is too powerful.

'Not a birthday, but it is an anniversary of some sort,' she says, 'the anniversary of his son's murder to be more precise.' It's strange how sometimes answering one question can lead to so many others. That seems to happening a lot right now. However, V hasn't finished, 'today is the day that our master, Dahl Mallor, killed his own son. I'm not the best person to explain all of this, Marie will tell you,' she gestures to her, 'she was there when it happened.' I take a seat. I know where this is going.

Marie looks apprehensive but her voice doesn't betray her. She takes a breath and waits a beat. Like the calm before a storm. 'I was just about to enter the Master's study when I heard shouting. Blood-curdling cries that chilled me to the bone. His lordship and the young master were arguing about something. I couldn't make out much but they said things along the lines of: 'you're not careful enough,' and 'I can't believe I've let my son become such a disappointment,' Mr Mallor said that, obviously. But the young master wasn't having any of it. Oh the curses he spat at him, I had to cross myself for they were so foul! They just kept getting louder and louder 'till I couldn't tell one voice from the other, and then it went as quiet. Eerily quiet. You could have heard a pin drop from a million miles away. I waited for a while, too scared to break the silence, when I heard a heavy thump. I stole a glance through the keyhole and saw... And saw...' And the storm breaks.

'Saw what?' I say trying not to sound insensitive.

'I saw the young master,' she hiccups, 'floating in a sea of red...With a glinting silver letter opener protruding from his chest,' she covers her face and sobs loudly. Dan has managed to sneak into the room unseen. I meet his eyes for a moment and he just gives me this _look. _So full of sorrow and remorse and guilt that I have to fight the need to break down right then and there.

We take a moment to let Marie compose herself. She rubs her face to wipe away the tears and contain the storm once again. But it took it's toll and her voice has lost all of its confidence. 'Then he just... Just _looked _at him lying there while he soaks up his own blood,' she shudders recalling the memory. 'It must have been 10 minuets at least before he actually did anything about it. He grabbed him by his arms and dragged him to a bookcase. I was confused at first but then master pushed a book and the case swung open. For all my life I've never seen anything like it, a real life hidden room. Or more accurately- a staircase leading to a hidden room. The last thing I saw was master dragging his dead son down those same stairs. It was also the last time any of us saw the young master.'

I lean back in my chair. How many more surprises can one man take? I scrunch my eyes shut and let my head roll forward lamely. V's reassuring hand is on my shoulder but I don't need comfort. Not this time. No, this time I just want answers, I just need there not to be anymore secrets. I lay my hands out flat in the table and they soon curl into fists. 'You still haven't told me why you're celebrating this,' I say, my voice void of emotion.

'The young master- like Dahl- was abusive,' says V, ' but not in the same was his father is. He wasn't careful in the way he did things. If one of us dropped something or made a mistake, he would hit us or insult us. He was reckless and that angered his father, I think that was what ultimately led to his death,' I nod as if I understand, but how can anyone _truly _understand something like this?

'What about Dhal's wife? If there anything I ought to know about her?' I really hope there isn't.

'No, nothing gruesome. She left him after Dahl's son was born and we never heard from her again.'

'Good, I don't think I could've handled anything else right now,' Dan is now by my side holding my hand behind the chair so no one can see. I take a small, selfish victory from this._ Dahl- you can take away my family, my home, my freedom, but there's one thing that nearly makes up for that. You gave me Dan, and he's the one thing I would never let you take away._

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	17. The Best Thing You Could Have Done

Dan and me leave soon after. Once out of sight, he pulls me into him and hugs me tightly. I can feel his breath on my neck. I shiver. He pushes back against my shoulders and asks; 'you okay?' I tell him that 'yes, I am okay' and we return to our room. We find Nate sat on the floor with a varied selection of food crammed into his mouth. I think he tries to say 'hello' but it sounds more like 'herrpherr' and despite everything, we laugh. Because somehow laughing, even if just for a moment, makes everything okay.

'Have fun?' Nate says when he manages to swallow, 'sounded like you were having a party down there.' I exchange a quick glance with Dan. 'Yeah,' I rummage around my brain for excuses to save having to explain, 'a friend of ours was celebrating their birthday, nothing special,' really convincing Phil. Nate nods only half interested while shoving a gravy covered potato in his mouth. Suddenly, his eyebrows shoot up like he'd just remembered something and he starts to search around the floor. The potato finally not blocking his throat, he says; 'I found something earlier and got curious,' he finds whatever he's looking for and sits on his knees, holding it up, 'what is it?' I know exactly what it is.

My music box.

'Oh, that,' I say. That. I did not need to be reminded of _that._ I could have been perfectly fine with it lying forgotten under my bed for the rest of time, but of course, it's never that easy. 'It's... It's...' I can feel my throat start to close up, my words being crushed as they try and voice themselves. 'I...I-'

_'Disgusting, defective human being!'_

'Give it to me,' I am surprised by Dan's authoritativeness. Nate obediently hands the box over to him, confused. Dan takes it, 'this?' He says, 'this is nothing. Not important. Meaningless. Insignificant. And we're getting rid of it.' Dan grabs hold of my wrist, 'you,' he says pointing at Nate, 'stay here,' Nate looks bewildered but says he will. With curt nod, Dan is tugging me through the door and I'm stumbling along behind him. If I'm honest, he's scaring me. I haven't known him to be rash or spontaneous at all, at least not that I know of. This sudden change in Dan's personality has put my guard up and I prepare myself for the worst.

'Dan,'

'...' He continues to pull me forward in silence.

'Dan, what are you doing? Where are you ta-' Before I can finish, I am silenced by a pair of unexpected but not unwelcome lips. His reassuring arm wrapping around my shoulders keeps me in place and I am grateful for it. I am not feeling particularly stable at this point. When he pulls away, I find that I am a little breathless embarrassingly. Dan being the sweetheart he is laughs and cups my face in his hands. It's nice forgetting you're the older one for a while. 'I told you, we're getting rid of it and that's that, okay?'

'Okay.' We sneak through the house yet again and I worry that this is going to become a regular occurrence. We descend to the first floor by the cold stone staircase, Dahl's floor. If we want to get to the one below us, we are going to have to go past his room. I see Dan tense up as he realizes it too. 'Shit...' He mutters under his breath.

However scared Dan may be, he keeps going but pauses just as he's about to pass the door to Dahl's room. I give his hand a comforting squeeze, he turns to me and smiles gratefully. Oh, Dan. He's trying to be so brave but the shaking betrays his efforts. I decide that he shouldn't have to be the brave one and tiptoe in front of him, taking the lead and signal for him to cross the small distance to me. He squeezes his eyes shut, shivers, and slowly makes his quiet way to my embrace. 'See,' I whisper, 'you're fine,' Dan simply buries his head into my shoulder. 'Come on,' I say, 'lead the way.'

Dan exhales as if to cleanse himself, then strides forward with renewed purpose. We descend another flight of stairs and meet the familiar sight of the main hall. 'This way,' Dan says. He leads me a route I had never been before. Through a door that I always thought was used for storage and suddenly we find ourselves outside in the crisp night air. It's a little scary. So many dark corners and niche hideaways.

After a few minutes of walking, I can start to make out what looks like a row of hedges in the distance. A few minutes more and we're there, the dark having obscured my depth perception. Dan searches for a moment before pointing to a hole partially hidden by leaves. 'Through here,' he says. He goes in first with me at his heels. 'I found this place when I first came here,' something scratches my cheek, 'I couldn't take it and I ran from the house,' we emerge from the tunnel of green. 'I was dead set on just running and running and running until I got somewhere safe.' I pull a leaf from my hair. 'But I didn't get very far. Beautiful, isn't it?'

'It is,' I say looking into the deep blue abyss in front of me, 'I understand.' A gentle wind wisps over the lake creating gentle waves that lap against the shore. It soothing monotonous melody plays tenderly in my ears. The sky I notice is a perfect replica of the lake's surface. Yes, the stars and moon are reflected on the surface, but it's not just that. In this light they both look eternal. Their separate yet identical infinities ensnare me and I find myself unable to look away. It's like if you jumped into one of them, you could fall right out of the other one. Even though they are completely different things, they are connected in some incomprehensible way. And before I know it, I've lost myself in these linked eternities.

Dan's voice startles me,' When I got here, it looked just like this,' he says, 'I found myself unable to move, like there was some invisible force keeping me here. So I stayed for a while, just thinking and I realized; what's the use of running?' He hangs his head a little. 'I understood how pointless it would be to run away. I had no money, no friend or family that could help me. I was better off here than I was anywhere else, but I suppose that was before he... He... Anyway, the truth is I just got scared. I was so much of a coward that I would rather stay here than even try anything, I felt so helpless. I guess that's why I hate this place so much.' He gestures out to the lake which seems to pulse as if it is was alive. 'I feel like it represents my perpetual cowardice and fear, so of course it would be perfect.'

'Perfect? For what?'

'This.' With a grin, he draws back his hand that holds my music box, laughs curtly, and throws the box into the black, endless water.

'BE GONE ABHORRENT CREATION OF HUMANITY.' He shouts, then explodes into laughter. I don't know if it's because I didn't expect it, or just because I can't fully grasp what he just did, but I feel nothing. No wait, there's something. A warmness radiating from my core. A light feeling in my heart. I know what I feel and I'm glad I do. That obscene box is gone and a weight has lifted from my shoulders. No more taunting voices, no more rejection, now me and Dan can be together right?

Right?

'Oh, Phil!' He says when he sees the tears pouring down my face.

'No, no.' I say, this is a happy moment; I don't want him to worry about me. 'This is... This is...' I gather him into a tight hug. 'This is the best thing you could have done. Thank you. I love you.' Seeing that his plan was a success, Dan spills out tears of his own.

'I love you to, Phil,' he says, nearly inaudibly into my shirt. I just keep repeating the words _thank you _over and over again because I am unable to do much else as I am right now. I will never believe Dan when he says that he is a coward. He has been braver than I have ever been in my whole life in these few weeks of knowing him. Dan is my saviour and guardian angel; I must try and be his. I can't help myself and say those sacred three words again: 'Dan... I lov-'

'Phil come on we're not love-struck children. Stop it before I vomit up sparkles,' his words are harsh but he says it with a smile and a laugh, obviously embarrassed. This moment is too good an opportunity to pass up.

'No,' I say bluntly, 'I refuse.' And I kiss him before he can reply.

I kiss him and I don't regret it. He kisses me without a worry in his mind. We kiss each other thinking that no one can see. But one person does see, the one person who could potentially destroy everything.

Nate sees.

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**WHATS NATE GONNA DO?! **

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